Merciful Waters
by Jeuxdevie
Summary: An Italian doctor is sent to Africa to help fight the AIDS pandemic. Warning: psychopathic POV. AU.


_Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed. Assassin's Creed is property of Ubisoft._

**Merciful Waters**  
>by: Jeuxdevie<p>

As of 2007, about 32.8 million people are living with the Human Immunodeficiency Virus, or HIV. The greatest prevalence is in Southern Africa, where more than 20% of the population is infected. HIV, as its name states, is a virus that compromises the body's natural defense system, making the victim more susceptible to infectious diseases such as pneumonia and tuberculosis.

As of the time of this writing, no cure has been found for HIV infection.

Finding a cure for HIV is a phenomenal challenge. Drugs for other diseases work by reducing the number of germs and preventing them from multiplying or by weakening the destructive capability of the bacteria or viruses, making it easier for the body's natural defenses to destroy the infection. However, with HIV, the cure can't rely on the body's natural defense system, which is attacked by the virus, to fight off the infection.

Despite the impossibility, doctors, scientists and governments all over the world are investing time, effort and money in the search for a miracle cure with the hopes of ending the AIDS pandemic forever.

The summer of 2012, I was appointed ambassador in the fight against HIV by the World Health Organization. As a famous doctor with many TV appearances, and a few controversial (and unpopular) opinions in the field of medicine, the appointment was surely surprising to both conservative and liberal media.

During the press conference prior to my flight to Zimbabwe, major news organizations had sent their reporters to ask me questions. I answered as graciously as I can, letting them hear what they wanted to hear.

I had a mission to perform, and I can't let public perception get in the way.

-x-x-x-

Three years later, I was sitting in my coastal villa in South Africa, relaxing and watching the sun rise and sipping a cup of coffee. The servant had placed the day's paper on the coffee table, very quietly and without disturbing my morning rituals, as I had commanded her. The headlines quickly caught my eye:

_**AIDS kills 10 million Africans in 2014**_

I picked up the paper, stretched my legs on the lounging chair, and read.

A worldwide frenzy was generated by the numbers. The recorded annual deaths due to AIDS had spiked over 400% from 2 million in 2012. The World Health Organization was certainly alarmed. The chairman of the United Nations had called me the previous evening, and warned me to protect myself, lest I also be infected.

Speculations spread like wildfire throughout the media. There were rumors of HIV mutating into a more potent, more virulent strain, one which was transmitted via inhalation of cough droplets, much like the flu. The World Health Organization had to mount advertising campaigns in order to quell the public fears.

Having studied the virus myself in my laboratory, I knew the rumors were far from reality.

Meanwhile, doctors, scientists and governments were working even harder to find a cure. I shook my head. I imagined the billions and billions of dollars wasted on the effort, which could have been invested on healthy, useful individuals.

Searching for a cure for HIV was a pointless, expensive endeavor.

There was only one way to end the pandemic.

10 million had died in 2014, mostly in Southern Africa where I worked. The public should not be alarmed by these numbers. Instead, they should rejoice.

Bolstered by pride in these results, I slipped into a coat and ran to my laboratory.

-x-x-x-

I was back in Zimbabwe later that month, together with the United Nations medical corps. Coated with layers of mosquito repellent to protect ourselves from malaria, we visited the villages that were hardest hit by HIV.

The dwindling populations in these villages elicited gasps from my companions. Where, before, an HIV-infected child could potentially live to a reproductive age and have his own children, now they were dying before they reached the age of 7. Entire villages were literally being wiped out within a span of days.

The air was different, too. Before, I could barely tell the difference between the smell of the wind and that of my laboratory. The stench of rotting meat and feces. Now, although there was still the tinge of death, the air was much, much fresher.

I went into a hut where a mother was nursing her baby. The infant had a rigid face, and so did its mother. They were both gasping for air.

I took the mother's clammy hand in mine and whispered to her, in the native language,

"Just bear with it, a few days more, and it will be all over."

Before we left the village, I discreetly poured my water jug into the nearby oasis.

The mother and her child were dead the next day.

-x-x-x-

Back in my laboratory, I went through my notes again. Over my few years' stay in Africa, I had refined my methods. The mission was getting closer to success, and I was confident that, within a few years, the continent would be liberated from the plague of AIDS.

If only the world appreciated my methods.

My eyes glanced over the jarred specimens that were shelved in my lab. Several dozens of bottles of uncured sausages in environments deprived of oxygen. This was my life's work. Here in Africa, I had found success.

Contrary to popular opinion, there was no hope for those afflicted with HIV. The virus would stay with them until the day they died, slowly but surely destroying the body in many painful, debilitating ways.

An early death was merciful. Plus, it stopped the spread of the disease.

I took the jar that contained the first successful trial. With this, I had finally found the solution to the epidemic. Unlike the other jars, which were quite dry, this particular one was filled with liquid to the brim.

With this, I delivered succor to the victims of HIV. All I had to do was to pour this colorless liquid into the villages' drinking water supply, and it accomplished what it was meant to do.

I called this solution _Botox M_, after my own name. M also stood for "Mercy." _How fitting_, I thought to myself.

Then my phone rang. I picked it up.

The World Health Organization chairman was on the line. "Dr. Malfatto?" he said.

I smiled. "Speaking. How can I help you?"

_THE END_


End file.
